“Little mother, bend thy tender ear, and listen to thy ‘dear boy’ who desires a great favor; think of it one week, and then write to him thou hast granted it.”

The entire letter ran in this strain, and the whole matter was this:  he felt he could not stay in school his appointed time.  He had done in previous months more than twice the amount of work done by any one student, and when the vacation came with the coming in of July, he would stay with the professor through the month, and thus work up to a certain point in his studies, then he wanted a year of freedom, and at its close, he would go back and finish any and every branch Clara desired him to.

“Emily,” said Clara, “he will be twenty-one next January, but he will be my boy still, and he will not say nay, if I ask him to return again.  I have expected this.  If Louis Robert had not left so strong a message—­” and she folded her hands, and with her head bent, she sat in deep thought and motionless for more than half an hour.  Then rousing suddenly, said: 

“It will be well for him, I shall send the word to-morrow.”

My heart beat gladly for in these days, I longed for Louis.  Thoughts of Mr. Benton vanished at the sight of Louis’ picture, and his letter I did not answer.  He wrote again.  The third time inclosed one in an envelope addressed to Hal, who looked squarely at me when he handed it to me, and afterward said: 

“Emily, do you love Will?”

I shook my head, and came so near telling him, but I did not, and again committed the sin of omission.

While all these earthly plans were being formed about us, the stirring of thought with the people on religious matters grew greater.  Regularly now several of our people went ten miles to the church where we heard Mr. Ballou.  A donation party for our minister was to be given the last day of April, and the air was rife with conjectures.  Jane North made her appearance, and her first salutation was: 

“Good afternoon, Mis’ Minot.  Going to donation next Monday night?”

“I think so,” was mother’s quiet reply.

“Well, I’m glad:  s’pose there’s a few went last year that wouldn’t carry anything to him now?”

Aunt Hildy stepped briskly in and out of the room, busy at work, and taking apparently no notice of the talk, when Clara came again to the front with: 

“Oh! come this way, Miss North, I have something to say, these good people will excuse us.”

“Oh! yes,” said mother, and they went.  I could not follow them for I was busy.  Two hours after, I entered Clara’s sitting-room, and Jane sat as if she had received an important message from some high potentate, which she was afraid of telling.  She sat knitting away on her silk stockings, and talked as stiffly, saying the merest things.  Clara left the room a few moments, and then she said: 

“Ain’t she jist a angel; she’s give me the beautifullest real lace collar for myself, and three solid linen shirts for our minister; said per’aps she should’nt go over; and two or three pieces of money for his wife, and a real beautiful linen table-cloth; you don’t care if I take ’em, do you?”